


A Game of Numbers

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Three days.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Kudos: 4





	A Game of Numbers

Three days.

Three long, never-ending days, two sleepless nights and one hour before Martin's plane touches down.

In retrospect it isn't that long. Except time seems to be moving backward and he feels closer to Martin leaving than Martin coming home. Which really doesn't make sense but if anyone could defy the laws of physics, it would be his partner.

Tacks on eight hours because that's how long he'll have to wait before he finally gets Martin alone.

Practically makes it an eternity.

And really, he shouldn't be this antsy; shouldn't be pacing around the office like some caged animal. And he definitely shouldn't be smiling every time the second hand inches forward. It's ridiculous and he's fairly certain Martin would laugh if he ever found out.

Stupid Martin addiction -worse than booze.

~*~

Ignoring Jack is so much easier when he has something to think about. Eighteen minutes to clear the runway and make it inside the terminal. Seven more waiting to claim baggage. One minute to hail a cab and a twenty-minute cab ride into the city, pending traffic.

Martin's plane landed forty-five minutes ago, which means....

"How was Chicago?"

Right on time.

"Cold," Vivian answers and Danny smirks.

"Very cold," Martin replies, briefly catching Danny's eye before sliding into a free chair at the head of the conference table.

Seven hours and fifteen minutes and Danny isn't going to make it.

Not with Martin casting him heated glances when no one's watching. Not with Martin's foot 'accidentally' brushing against his as Martin tries to find a comfortable position. Certainly not without any active cases, guaranteeing they'll spend the day doing paper work and seven hours will end up feeling like seven hundred.

Takes his time heading back to his desk, Vivian following Jack into his office to give her report and Sam disappearing in search of coffee. And that leaves him alone with Martin and for a moment he's almost tempted to drag the other man into some dark, private closet.

"Hey." Martin not making it any easier and how dare he just perch on the edge of Danny's desk after three days of not touching?

"Hey. How was your flight?" Danny asks in as steady a voice as he can manage.

"Long. I'm going to hit the head, you coming?" Martin questions and obviously Danny's still asleep and dreaming because this is not Martin and damn it, that means he has to wait even longer.

Pointed glance and dream-Martin's better than nothing so Danny waits for him to vanish down the hall before standing and forcing himself not to run. Mentally chants 'don't wake up' until he's pushing past the heavy wooden doors of the men's room and there's Martin. Leaning against the sinks and he's adopted Danny's smirk. Not going to analyze that.

"I thought only women went to the bathroom in groups?" Danny quips, earning a patented Martin eye roll.

"Always wondered about that," Martin muses, hands coming up to rest on Danny's chest.

Danny leans into the touch, his own hands slipping beneath Martin's suit jacket. And Martin shakes his head, nodding toward a stall and Danny's really starting to like dream-Martin.

Soft click of the lock and Danny's back is pressed against the door. Held firm by Martin's hands and Martin's lips and oh God, Martin's erection pressing into his thigh. Bucks forward, rocking against Martin like it's going out of style and he can't get enough. Too long absent and he's starting to think he should forbid Martin from ever leaving.

At the very least talk to Jack about always sending them out of state together because Danny's fairly certain he can't live through another three days. Hell, can barely manage an hour but he's slowly coming to terms with that.

"Fuck, Danny."

"Mmmm." Words swallowed by Martin's mouth, alongside oxygen and breathing's overrated anyway.

Still rocking, setting a pace that's just slow enough to torment and just fast enough to keep him on the edge of orgasm. And then Martin's pulling away; warmth receding and there should be some sort of law.

"Martin," growled and Danny doesn't have time for this. Any minute now someone's going to come in to use the bathroom and then he'll never see Martin again.

Can't have that.

"Relax," Martin murmurs, hands seeking out belt and Danny's right back to 'don't wake up'.

Sharp hiss as Martin pulls him free, turning into a moan as Martin falls to his knees.

'Don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up, don't...fuck'.

Martin's hands digging into his hips, holding him against the wall and Danny bites his lip to keep from screaming at the first feel of Martin's tongue. Helplessly trying to buck forward because he wants needs more of that wet, inviting heat and Martin's swallowing him whole and it's all he can do not to come instantaneously.

Hands flat against the stall door, slipping every so often and it takes all of Danny's strength to keep from sliding to the floor in a pathetic heap. But Martin's holding him steady, fingers digging into the curve of his hip and Danny can't remember when he closed his eyes.

Opens them to watch because Martin sucking him off is a sight he doesn't see nearly enough. Doesn't think there is such a thing as enough but that's a conversation for later because Martin's sliding fingers past balls and...fuck.

Coming way too soon and way too intense and Danny's surprised he doesn't black out. Can feel his knees buckling, his legs trembling but Martin's still holding him so he's fairly certain he's not going to embarrass himself any further.

Whimpers at the sudden loss of contact and maybe embarrassment is just as overrated as oxygen but he doesn't care because Martin's kissing him and he can taste himself on Martin's tongue. Sharp and bitter and his cock twitches painfully as he chases the flavor with his tongue.

"I'm guessing you missed me?" Martin asks, pulling away long enough to smirk and obviously they've been spending too much time together.

"Something like that," Danny pants, waiting for his vision to clear before spinning them around and payback's a bitch.

Fingers numb and it takes him a moment to work open Martin's zipper. Another to finally get Martin's pants around his ankles and he's starting to think they should both go commando just for these circumstances. Swallows the thought along with a laugh in a kiss that leaves Martin shaking against him and yeah, Martin was missed.

Wraps his hand around Martin's length, slow, lazy strokes and Martin gives him a dark look. Smiles innocently before increasing the pressure; pace just this side of frantic and Martin's gaze dissolves into a pool of black glass. Flitters behind now closed eyelids and it's just about the most beautiful thing Danny's ever seen.

Never wake up.

Soft kisses pressed against Martin's lips, across his cheek and down to his chin. Sharp bite and Martin's thrusting into the circle of Danny's hand. Does it again and gets a growl, low and so sexy Danny's already half hard. Again. Ignores it, running his thumb along Martin's head and silencing Martin's cry with a kiss that's more passion than coordination and Martin's coming into Danny's hand.

Sticky wet heat and he probably should have considered this beforehand. Blames it entirely on Martin; dragging him into the bathroom and it's not Danny's fault his brain doesn't work around that kind of incentive.

Fingers wrapped around wrist stopping him from reaching for the toilet paper and Danny arches an eyebrow. Watches with satiated amusement as Martin pulls, bringing fingers to lips and licking them clean. Fuck. Never going to be able to piss again without picturing this moment and Danny's fairly certain he's going to spend the rest of his career with a perpetual hard on.

Evil Martin.

"So, did you bring me home a souvenir?" Danny asks, free hand absently straightening Martin's tie.

"I sent you a post card, you should get it sometime next week," Martin replies, releasing Danny's now clean hand and reaching for his pants.

Danny laughs, straightening his own clothes before leaning forward for one last kiss, lingering a moment before slipping out of the stall. And now there's only six hours and forty-five minutes and he's pretty sure he can handle the wait.


End file.
